Fateor
by MissLindaLee
Summary: A secret revealed .... five lives changed forever. Eleventh story in Angelica Corusca.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Fateor  
AUTHOR: MLL and Firechild  
RATING: K  
TEASER: A secret revealed ... five lives changed forever.  
NOTES: We don't own 'em - we just borrow 'em.

I was bored.

Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored.

That sounded really stupid, I know, but that's how I felt. I was completely and utterly bored. And that's saying a lot, coming from me. Yeah, I know that might sound a little conceited, but that's not my intention. It's just that I hardly ever get bored. I mean, I'm Superman.

Okay, I'm not really Superman . . . I mean I am, but I'm also Clark Kent. Actually, I'm more Clark than I am Superman. Superman is my job, and Clark is my life. Well, actually, my job is working as a reporter for the Daily Planet, but you know what I mean. At least, I hope you do . . . sometimes my thoughts get so jumbled up that even I don't know what I'm thinking half the time.

Anyway, as I was saying, it's because of who I am that I'm hardly ever bored. Either I'm spending time with my friends and family, writing up stories, or saving the world from impending doom.

But not today.

No, today I was sitting at my desk. Not saving the world or doing much of anything; it was like the world had decided not to have any disasters today. I had just turned in my story to Perry about the Council's plan for tax reform, and now I was just watching the hands on the nearby wall clock tick slowly. Of course, I couldn't really just sit and stare at the clock. Perry has this thing about his reporters not working, so I have to at least pretend I'm busy at something. Maybe it was time I cleaned my desk. I haven't done that since . . . well, since the last time I cleaned it out – and I think that was before Linda showed up.

I glanced at the picture frames on my desk; I have two in total. The first one, the one that's been there longer, is a silver frame I bought at the Golden Goose, and it holds a picture of my parents (they're sitting on the porch of the house; it was taken a few years back). When it comes to my parents . . . I'm the luckiest man in the world, and I'm not afraid to say that. Even after all this time I still think back on all they've done for me, all the stuff they put up with and endured because of me . . . all the sacrifices they made . . . and it still amazes me that their resolve – especially my father's - hasn't wavered one bit.

The second frame is one-of-a-kind, handmade by . . . well, a one-of-a-kind girl. I know I look stupid with that grin on my face as I stare at the rainbow colors splattered all over the white background, but I can't help it. I know the artist personally (it's her picture that's in the frame), and she is the most amazing girl I've ever met. I stared at her sparkling blue eyes, and I thought about how much my world changed the night she came into my life.

Linda's arrival in Smallville last summer was . . . quiet. She came in a spaceship, just like I had, but only a handful of people knew what really crashed in that field; there was no meteor shower (thank goodness . . . I shudder at what would happen if any more meteors hit Smallville). To the public it was a piece of satellite, to the Army . . . well, they were saying the same thing, but I think they suspected something. Thankfully, that theory quickly died off, namely because they couldn't seem to find any proof of anything (though all they had to do was look in a nearby storm cellar; ironic, huh?).

Linda was a scared girl who clung to me and my parents like glue and seemed very vulnerable, even with all her emerging powers. Now . . . well, she's still a little clingy, but she's blossomed into someone who has amazing confidence, a wonderful heart, and this incredible artistic talent that I've never seen before. There are many great painters, great sketchers, great sculptors in the world, but there are very few great artists. George Bellows once said 'The artist is the person who makes life more interesting or beautiful, more understandable or mysterious, or probably, in the best sense, more wonderful.' If that is what the definition of an artist is, then I know Linda is one. She has this ability to do things with paints, charcoals, clay, and pretty much anything she can get her hands on that I can't even begin to understand. And she changed my life and the lives of my parents in ways that I can never repay.

Take the picture frame, for example. To the naked eye it would appear just to be a normal picture frame, but it's not. When Linda gave me the frame last week she told me to 'look closer,' and then she gave me a small wink. Now, translated, that means 'I put something in there for your eyes only,' so I used my visual abilities and quickly found Linda's 'secret ingredient.' Etched into the frame around the border, in microscopic Kryptonian symbols, were the words 'I can't even begin to describe how much you mean to me. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life, both as your cousin and now as your sister. Love always, Short Stack.'

I have to clear my throat every time I read those words - otherwise the lump forming will dissolve, and I'll start crying right here. I know you're probably thinking that I'm a wuss for tearing up over simple words, but let me say this: I spent my entire life thinking I was the only one like me out there, then one night this small angel – someone who came from the same place as I did – dropped from the stars and into my life; everything she does or says is important to me. Besides, regardless of what society may think, a true man is not afraid to show his emotions. I learned that from my father.

"You are hopeless, you know that?"

I smiled, not even turning around. I knew that voice anywhere. Ever since eighth grade that voice – and the person the voice belongs to – has been an important part of my life.

"And why do you say that, Chloe?" I asked.

"Because you are," Chloe replied as she leaned against my desk, arms folded. "You keep staring at that frame, you're going to burn holes through it. And then how do you think Linda will feel?" She winked and I chuckled.

"I can't help it, Chlo," I replied.

"I know," Chloe said, smiling. "You have a big heart, Clark, and she takes up a special place in it. Along with your mother and Lois."

"And you too," I responded with a smile. "You'll always have a special place in my heart too, and that's never going to change."

Chloe smiled, her eyes sparkling. I'm really glad that she's remained one of my closest friends over these years, especially now that I'm dating her cousin. I know she had feelings for me for a long time . . . and it took her a while to get over me, romantically, but I'm glad she was able to move past that and get on with her life. I love her to pieces, but we weren't right for each other . . . not like that.

"And where does Lana fit into this?" she asked. Suddenly, she realized what she said, and her smile faded; she looked apologetic as I felt my own features falter. "Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring her up."

"It's okay, Chlo," I replied. I knew I was lying a little, and I knew Chloe didn't mean anything by bringing up Lana, but it still hurt. Very few people have hurt me in life the way Lana did. At first I blamed myself – because it was the meteor shower I came in that killed her parents, and I was scared about what she'd think if she knew I was an alien, but I never thought we'd grow so far apart. It's . . . it's not something I really like to talk about.

"No, it's not okay," Chloe replied. "I know Lana's a touchy subject, and I open my big mouth."

I sighed and got to my feet, looking directly at Chloe as I put my hands on her shoulders. "Chloe, I'm not mad, okay?" For added emphasis I smiled my usual charming Clark Kent smile and kissed her forehead.

"Hey, I hope I get one of those too," another voice sayid from behind me. Both Chloe and I smiled as I turned around and saw Lois standing there, smiling.

What can I say about Lois? She's domineering, uncompromising, pig-headed . . . brilliant . . . beautiful. I haven't felt this way about any woman – ever. I'm lucky to have her in my life, even if I can't tell her the one thing I want to. Don't get me wrong, I really care about her, and I know she can be trusted, but she's still got residual feelings for Superman . . . and I want her to like me for me – not for him. Chloe has reassured me she will, but I'm still not completely sure.

"Of course," I replied, smiling as I leaned over and kissed Lois' lips; I could taste the strawberry lip gloss, and it tasted very . . . yummy. Careful, Clark, don't go there.

"Mmmm," Lois said, smiling. She pulled away. "Very nice."

"You're welcome," I grinned.

"So, bored?" Lois asked, noting my open drawer.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Want to join Chloe and me for a late lunch?" Lois asked.

"No, thanks. I really want to get this desk organized. Rain check?"

"Watch it, Lo Lo," Chloe leaned over, grinning. "I caught him daydreaming about his favorite cousin again."

"Well, I think I'll forgive him," Lois replied, winking before turning to me. "Only if you promise to take me to that jazz concert this weekend."

"Deal," I smiled. Lois kissed me one more time before heading to the elevators with Chloe. I watched them for a few moments, then I went back to my desk. You know, I always prided myself on being neat and organized - and my desk was a complete pig sty. Wrappers from candy bars stuffed in one corner . . . hey, don't judge me; I like chocolate. Besides, it's not like I get pimples or gain weight.

"You know, I think there's some chocolate left on that one wrapper in the corner," a voice snarked from behind. I raised an eyebrow as I glanced behind me – just as Jimmy passes by, his arms full of folders as he headed to Perry's office.

Jimmy Olsen is . . . well, he's one of the best photographers at the Daily Planet. I am really impressed with what he can do with a camera; he has a talent that I haven't seen in a photographer in years. I mean . . . oh, hell, I can't do it. I can't, I'm sorry. Don't get me wrong; Jimmy is a great kid and a great photographer . . . but he's also interested in Linda.

That makes Jimmy the enemy.

Yes, that's harsh, but I only have one baby cousin in the universe; I'm not above being protective of her – especially after hearing about what Jimmy and Linda have already been up to. I won't go into details (I'm still trying to get the images out of my head), but Linda's already seen Jimmy in nothing but his boxers – before they nearly slept with each other (yes, I know she was on red kryptonite, and I know he doesn't know . . . doesn't make the image of them . . . touching each other . . . go away). Then there was the time that Jimmy snuck out to the farm in the middle of the night, and Dad caught them in bed together (nothing happened, but still . . . I wish I could have been there to scare a little sense into Jimmy, but Dad was scary enough from what I was told).

My thoughts were interrupted as this ear-piercing sound filled my head. I winced as I grabbed the sides of my head, squeezing my eyes shut. It was like someone had taken a hundred rocket boost engines and placed them right next to my head. I slowly opened my eyes and looked around; no one else in the newsroom seemed fazed in the least. That meant only one thing.

_Superman_, a voice said. I stiffened, recognizing the voice immediately. _Guess who this is_.

"Metallo," I replied softly.

Metallo was once a merciless hit man named John Corbin. I first ran across him less than two years ago. He had tried stealing one of Lex's defense weapons, but I managed to stop him, and he was hauled off to Stryker's Prison. While in prison, the attending physician – who had been hired by Lex himself – helped Corbin escape. I'm still not sure exactly what happened following that escape, but I do know that Lex made Corbin a deal: one million dollars to kill me. Corbin agreed, and Lex has the fugitive's mind transferred into an android body, a body that was powered by a Kryptonite heart. That heart alone made Corbin a dangerous enemy, but the newfound strength from the android body, in addition to the hatred he has towards me, makes him very formidable. I fought him a few times since he became Metallo, and even though I always managed to defeat him, it wasn't always easy.

_You and me have some unfinished business, flyboy_, Metallo said. When did he get hypersonic transmitting abilities? More importantly, when and how did he get out of Stryker's? _Now, if you don't want your friends at the Daily Planet getting crushed under thousands of tons of mortar and concrete, then meet me out in the alley behind the building – now._

I sighed as I got to my feet. Why was it that every single time someone threatens me they have to put innocent people in danger? Seriously, it's starting to get old. Well, regardless of how I felt about the whole thing, I knew I had to do something. I glanced at my desk; cleaning would have to wait. I nonchalantly headed over to the staircase, tugging at my tie. In seconds, I was a blur as I ran up the stairs, changing into my other set of work clothes and stashing my suit in the small grate over the door to the roof before walking over the edge of the building. Funny, I used to be scared of heights . . . now, one of my favorite things is to soar above the clouds. I jumped off and dived down into the back alley, landing on the concrete. My guard was already up as I looked around.

"I see you got my message." I turned around, and there he was. Corbin never really looked menacing; he was less than six feet in height, with brown hair and blue eyes. But something I learned early on was that the most dangerous people were the ones that didn't look dangerous – and that definitely included Corbin.

"What do you want?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and keeping my distance.

"You dead, of course," Corbin replied. His eyes glowed green a second before two green energy beams shot out, hitting me square in the chest. I immediately dropped to my hands and knees, feeling sick to my stomach as the radiation hit me. I hate kryptonite, always have and always will. The red stuff isn't a walk in the park, but the green stuff . . . it really sucked.

I thought back to the first time I got exposed to the stuff. I was four years old, and – I stopped when I realized that was eerily like having my life flash before my eyes. I willed myself to focus through the pain; I was not going to go out – not like this, and not by Corbin.

"Leave him alone, Metalhead!" The radiation stopped as Metallo and I jerked our heads over when we heard the voice; Jimmy was standing about thirty feet away.

"Jimmy," I wheezed, "get . . . out of . . . here."

"Why don't you listen to your pal?" Metallo sneered. "Otherwise, you might get hurt!" He focused his eye beams on Jimmy and fired. Jimmy jumped out of the way before getting hit, diving into a nearby dumpster. I pushed my pain aside as I got to my feet; no one tried to hurt my friends and got away with it.

"Hey, Corbin," I said. He looked at me, and I rammed him with the force of a battering ram. He went flying backwards, slamming into a nearby brick wall. Bricks rained down as I turned my head. "Jimmy, you okay?" Suddenly, I get that sick feeling again. I doubled over in pain as I turned my head and saw Corbin emerging from the dust. The artificial skin had been ripped away from his chest, the kryptonite heart was exposed in its compartment. The rock glowed brighter as Corbin walked over to me and grabbed me around my neck; he hoisted me up in the air and smiled cruelly.

"I have waited so long for this," he said, his hand tightening around my throat.

"Metallo!" Corbin jerked his head to the side, and then I felt something wet being splashed over me; I saw Corbin had been splashed too, all over his chest. I looked over and saw Jimmy gingerly holding a damaged car battery.

"What the hell?" Corbin asked, gently finger some of the liquid. "You think a little water's going to stop me, kid?"

"Not water," Jimmy replied. He smirked. "Battery acid."

I looked down when I heard a slight sizzling sound, and saw the wires connected to the kryptonite dissolving. Corbin's smile abruptly vanished, and he started shaking as his grip loosened on me. I took the opportunity to slam the compartment door shut, and I felt a little better. Corbin dropped me, and I landed on my feet, my chest heaving, my knees shaking. I watched as the android's legs shook and he dropped to his knees.

"No," he said, his voice dropping as his entire body began shutting down. "Not -" I didn't let him finish his sentence as then I balled up my fist and used all my strength to knock his head off. It went sailing through the air and landed in a nearby garbage can. Corbin's body dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap.

I stood for a few seconds, breathing hard, trying to stay upright, but I couldn't. I dropped to my knees like a stone, my breath shaky. The kryptonite heart was bad enough, but Corbin's eye blasts were especially problematic. They really sapped my energy levels.

"You okay?" Jimmy asked as he walked over.

"Fine," I replied, waving my hand, hoping Jimmy would buy it. "Go back to the Planet. I'll take care of this, Jimmy."

There were a few moments of silence. "Okay," Jimmy said slowly. He paused, closed his eyes for a moment, then rubbed his forehead like he had a headache. It wasn't until later that I realized that he'd probably taken a couple of hits to the head during the fight, but I have a feeling that in that moment he was making some sort of decision. He finally opened his eyes and looked at me again, dropping his hand to his pocket. "How long do you think you'll be?"

I sighed, feeling more tired just from watching him. "I don't know," I replied.

"Well, I'm going to need a little better timeframe than that; I gotta know what to tell Perry."

I glanced over at Jimmy, confused. "What?" I asked.

"Well, if you're going to be a few minutes, then I'll just tell him you went to the bathroom," Jimmy replied, sounding aggravated but resigned. "If you're going to need more time, I'll tell him you ate some bad sushi and went home early." He shrugged at my look of befuddled disbelief. "He's seemed to buy every lame excuse you've fed him over the years, Clark; it's not like he's going to start questioning them now."

I stared at Jimmy, my eyes as big as dinner plates, and there was only one thought in my mind at that moment:

_Oh crap._

(End of Chapter 1)


	2. Chapter 2

(I am so sorry that I've been behind on this story, but grad school and real life - and writer's block - has been taking its toll. This next chapter was written by Firechild, who is helping me with this story.) 

Jimmy's Chapter

- - - -

I could see it there, in his eyes, an extreme close-up of a man watching his world fly apart--the dawning realization, tinged by horror.

He knew that I knew.

And my first thought was, "Finally--a sign of intelligent life from Clarkworld."

And then I thought, so maybe that wasn't totally fair. I mean, it wasn't like he was trying to be an idiot. It just sort of came naturally to him...

sigh

Okay, so I know that none of that was fair. Clark's not an idiot. He's a real smart guy, a top-notch investigative reporter--he's just got a lot on his plate; I mean, between being said reporter and having to play nitwit all day, and being a crack superhero, and a son and a sort-of big brother and a mentor and a friend to Lois and Chloe and Pete, the guy's just got a lot to handle. And with all that, he just found out that a stupid scrappy ex-reform-school teenager knows about his dual identity; eventually, he was bound to start to wonder just how long I'd known, and how long he had been unaware of this. That's gotta be kinda... creepy. And a little on the scary side, seeing as how he's understandably worried about his secret getting out.

And if all that's not enough, the guy now had to worry about the fact that the person who knew said secret wasn't someone he trusted. Wasn't someone he felt he should trust. Or could. Or probably ever would.

Seriously. He didn't need my attitude on top of it all.

He didn't need me.

So I got why he was angry. I mean, here was Superman, literally backed into a corner by some kid he thought he knew. He'd just learned that, for an unknown period of time, he'd been effectively decieved, and he didn't know who was in on that and who wasn't. He blinked, and it was like he was looking at me for the first time. I sort of expected him to be mad.

What I didn't expect was for him to whiz through confusion, shock, horror, and speechlessness as fast as he got to his feet, and work up his mad while he was stalking toward me. I wasn't ready for him to grab for me, and I pulled back reflexively--I never have done so well with people putting their hands on me and making me go where they want. I knew he was ticked at me, and I've had enough experience with people being mad at me to know that there's no use fighting it, I always deserve it for something, but I just... I just wasn't ready to give in and play the naughty little boy yet again.

Problem was, I was pulling away from Clark Kent, who also happens to be Superman. So, yeah, duh, like that worked. When I jerked my arm back and tried to step away, he just gave me this impatient, almost parental warning look, like I should "know better," and snatched my arm before I could blink. He growled, "Let's go," and the next thing I knew, my feet were leaving the ground.

It was weird--I used to love flying with CK. Or at least, I used to love being able to pretend that I was flying with CK. Not that Superman hasn't always been all 'the cool,' and it wasn't like I was stalking Clark or anything, but I used to try to imagine that I was flying with a friend, not some icon who only saw me as another one of his charges.

Turned out, I probably should have been happy with that; it was better than realizing something that I should have figured out long ago--that a guy I'd been stupid enough to think could be my friend hadn't really ever seen me at all.

So maybe it wasn't my smartest move, but as we were taking off, I suddenly got really angry. I told him to stop, to let me go, to put me down; I just kept getting more and more angry. I tried to convince, to beg, even to threaten him to get him to just land and leave me alone, but he wouldn't listen, and he wouldn't talk; his jaw, his shoulders, and his hands might as well have been titanium. He was so angry, so defensive, it was like standing next to a furnace, and I was matching him spark for spark, but all my heat was just bleeding off. I might as well have been wearing shackles or a strait-jacket. I felt like I was being kidnapped, or hauled to the principal's office like a bad six-year-old on his way to a paddling. I really wasn't sure which idea was worse--I'd experienced both.

What I was sure of was that my life, as I knew it, was over. I couldn't get away, I had nothing to bargain with, I was pretty much a sitting duck (okay, a flying sitting duck, but still...) and the second my feet hit the Kent farm, I'd be done. Everything would be out in the open and everyone would know that Clark knew about me, and then... then I would have nothing. I couldn't lose CK--can't lose what you never really had--but I could kiss my friendships, or whatever they were, with Chloe and Lois goodbye, and even though the Kents already knew that I knew Clark's secret, they would do anything to protect their son, and 'anything' definitely wouldn't include keeping me around.

And then there was Linda.

I could imagine exactly what my life was going to be like without her, no matter how much I didn't want to. I think in photos and frames and film reels, and it just wasn't a pretty picture. She was my best friend, probably actually my only friend, the only person I knew for sure, besides my mom, cared about me, but that couldn't last. I mean, we're literally worlds apart; not only is she not in my league, she's not even in my cosmos. And judging by the mood he was in, again totally his right, there was just no way that Clark was going to let me be in the same county as her once this all came out; he couldn't protect her if he couldn't trust the people around her, and he would never trust me. Especially when he found out that his wasn't the only secret I held--and he would find out, because there was no way anyone was going to keep anything from him now. His parents had wanted him to know that I knew as soon as they found out, and I could only be grateful that they let me have as much time as I did before this all blew up in my face. Which would be in about... eight minutes, by my guess. Clark was flying mad, but he wasn't hurtling, just kind of pacing himself, probably stewing. And his stewing was giving me too much time to realize that it was over.

All of it. Over.

This wasn't on him. It wasn't on anybody but me. I'd done it again. I'd poisoned everything I'd touched.

I could have used a nice, high-suction airplane engine right about then.

But... no such luck. Those last eight minutes of that flight were too long, but they went by way too fast. I'm not the type to get airsick, but as soon as we landed--or as soon as he landed, because for a minute there I really didn't think he was going to set me down--everything in me threatened to turn inside out. How I managed to walk when he finally did put me down is beyond me, although I suspect it had something to do with his titanium grip on the back of my neck. Breathing, now that was another story; I'm not sure I did, not for a very long time. I am sure that the walk from the yard up to the porch and over the threshold was the longest and shortest I'd ever taken, and that the moment I laid eyes on Mr. Kent, everything that had been trying to flip out and come up before dropped clear through the soles of my feet. The only mercy was that Linda wasn't there; I didn't want her to see me like that, and if she wasn't there, no one would be focused on her connection to all of this.

I could hear a whine in my ears, getting louder and louder, the same whine I remembered from the day my mom told me that my dad wasn't coming home (hmm, give ya three guesses why he left,) the same whine I heard the day she told me that she was sending me away to reform school because she couldn't deal with me right then. I'm pretty sure that if I'm alive when the world ends, I'll know it's happening because I'll hear that whine. And through that whine I could only think the same things over and over again:

I've screwed it all up again, it's all over, it's all crashing down, I've doomed it.

I have to get out of here.

(End of Chapter 2)


	3. Chapter 3

- - - -

I am so glad I had decided not to go to the Talon with Mattie and Andy after school. I had planned on coming home and starting some projects for Bruce after I finished my homework. I had finished my math and science in study hall, so all I had left were English and history. Man, I never thought that history could be so fascinating; there are so many people and things out there in the world that I haven't seen yet … Clark says that he might take me all over the world this summer to show me the things I've read about; that would be the coolest thing since … since … peanut butter.

I mean, think about it. It's mashed, sweetened peanuts that have the consistency of slightly-hardened toothpaste – and you can eat it. And you can play with it, too. Just the other day, I gave a spoonful to Krypto – that dog will eat anything – and he walked around for about ten minutes with his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Daddy and Mama didn't find that too funny, and I had to do some extra chores, but I still think it was worth it.

And then there's English.

I can understand English and nouns and verbs and stuff, and I can speak it pretty well (along with Kryptonese, Spanish, and Chinese, and I can write Egyptian hieroglyphs, and I'm learning other languages too; sometimes being highly advanced has its perks), but there is still a lot of stuff that I don't know about. I mean, I don't get why Clark always calls our telepathic abilities 'spider sense.' I mean, I get it – I saw Spiderman… still don't get how a spider bite could cause someone to shoot web from his wrists and stuff, but that's not important. I get what Clark is saying, but I don't get why he's saying it, if that makes sense… and I just realized I've been rambling. Sorry.

As I was saying, I was planning on working on some stuff that Bruce asked me to make after I finished my homework. I know it might be kinda funny that Bruce and I are working together, but Bruce really isn't all that bad. Yeah, he can be grumpy and cross at times, but he's got a good heart; he did help investigate my attack last year … and he is helping me with some parts of this Kryptonian mystery thing that's going on. Yeah, I know he has a darkness, and sometimes it's scary, but (and don't ever let Daddy or Momma or Clark or Jimmy hear about this) sometimes I find his darkness to be almost a mirror image of my own, and in a strange way, it's kinda reassuring.

Anyway, I had planned on working on that stuff for Bruce after my homework, but when I walked into the kitchen and saw Jimmy and Clark there with Momma and Daddy… I knew something was up. I was also confused, because I hadn't seen an extra car out there… and it hit me. Before I even knew it, I turned to Jimmy, grinning, and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind:

"You finally told him!" I squealed.

"What?" Clark asked, frowning as he looked at me … and my smile faded when I realized something very important.

"You didn't tell him, did you?" I asked Jimmy.

"You knew too?" Clark asked, fixing me with a look that made me shrink a little. He looked at Jimmy and his parents. "Does this mean I'm the last person to know that Jimmy knew about me?"

"Well, yeah," I answered.

"That was rhetorical, Linda," Clark said.

"Okay, I still don't get that word," I replied. "Why ask a question if you already know the answer?" Clark fixed me with a glare, and I returned it.

"Okay, okay, you two," Daddy jumped in. "Knock it off."

"But he started it," I said, pointing to Clark. "I was just answering his question."

"I really don't care who started it," Daddy replied. "We have something bigger to talk about." He looked at Jimmy, and I could see that Jimmy looked very … to be honest, I really couldn't tell what he looked like.

_Jimmy, are you okay?_

Jimmy looked up at me, and even without my telepathic abilities, I could see from his eyes that he was hurting. I glanced at Clark, wondering what had happened when he had found out Jimmy knew, and I found myself wondering if Clark also knew that Jimmy knew about me. I kept my mouth shut, however, because if Clark didn't know that… well, I wasn't about to tell him, especially with his current attitude.

Clark started talking loudly at that moment, then both Daddy and Momma joined in, completely ignoring us. I watched them, listening and waiting for them to finish, but after a few seconds I knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. I sighed and glanced over at Jimmy, and my eyes widened when I saw he was gone. I looked around, thinking he might have gone into the living room to get away from the arguing (which I could understand), but he wasn't there. I switched to my X-ray vision and searched the house, seeing no one upstairs – except for Streaky and Krypto, who were curled up on my bed, sleeping (those two could sleep through anything.) Nothing downstairs as well, so I focused my attention outside, staring through the kitchen wall – and that's when I saw Jimmy heading down the gravel road.

I knew I would probably get yelled at – then again, maybe not with how Jimmy and I were kinda being ignored at the moment – so I blurred out of the kitchen, down the porch and caught up with Jimmy just outside the barn. He gave no indication of stopping, so I just walked with him as we headed down the gravel path. I could still hear the arguing in the house behind me, so it was obvious that no one had taken notice of us being gone yet, which suited me just fine.

"Jimmy, where are you going?" I asked.

"Away from here," Jimmy replied. "You should go back inside, Linda."

"I'm not leaving you," I said firmly, trying to hide my worry. I racked my brain, trying to come up with something to keep Jimmy here; I didn't want to use force … not with him in that condition. "Jimmy, please stay." Jimmy stopped, and I was grateful that I at least had his attention. I just hoped he would agree to stay.

"I can't," he said softly.

"Why not?" I asked.

Jimmy snorted, incredulously. "Because of them," he said, pointing to the house. "You think they're going to even want me around here now after all this? You think they're going to even want me around you?"

I was confused. "What are you talking about?" I asked.

"This, Linda," Jimmy said. " Clark is so p----- off that I know. He's never going to trust me ever again, and he's sure as h--- not going to trust me around you – especially after finding out I know about you - and your parents are going to side with him. Not that I blame them."

"No, they won't," I replied. "They didn't tell Clark when they first found out you knew about us… they were siding with you."

"And you think they're going to now?" Jimmy asked. He sighed frustrated. "Look, just go back and be with your family." He headed down the drive.

"And where are you going?" I asked.

"Back to Metropolis," Jimmy replied.

I blurred over and stood in front of him. "No, you're not," I said.

"Linda, out of my way," Jimmy replied, trying to go around me, but I wouldn't let him.

"It's three hours to Metropolis by car," I said. "Last time I checked, you don't go anywhere near as fast as a car."

"Linda…."

"What?"

Jimmy stared at me for a few seconds, then he just sighed and shook his head. "Nothing," he muttered. "Forget it."

"Jimmy," I said softly, "please don't -" I stopped when I saw the bump on Jimmy's head. "Jimmy, what happened to your head?" I stepped closer to get a better look, but Jimmy just shrugged it off, stepping back.

"It's nothing," he said, "I'm fine."

"Then why do you have a bump on your head?" I asked. He wouldn't answer me, and I was tempted to read his mind, but I knew Jimmy would be mad if I did… and I didn't want to make him mad at me. He was already mad at everyone else; I've already had him mad at me, and I hated that feeling… and I didn't want to feel that that ever again.

"I'm fine," Jimmy replied half-heartedly.

I knew he wasn't going to tell me, not yet, and I didn't understand it, but I didn't want to force him to do anything he didn't want to do, even though it hurt; I sighed. "Okay," I said softly. Jimmy started heading down the drive again, and I followed him.

You know what's funny? In that moment, I wasn't thinking about what Daddy and Momma were going to do or say – or what Clark would do or say – when they found us missing; they didn't even cross my mind. I don't know what Jimmy's thinking when we do stuff like this, and I've never looked into his mind to find out; I've been too scared at being found out and hurting him… or finding out I'm the last thing on his mind when we're together. I know I shouldn't be thinking about him--we agreed to be friends--but I can't help it. Ever since Jimmy and I first met, I can't stop thinking about him… and I don't think that's ever going to change.

Jimmy continued down the dirt road, and I found myself having to walk fast in order to stay beside him. I didn't say anything as we walked together, mainly because I didn't know what to say to him. I know all these things about the universe – planets and their systems, star charts for all known galaxies, thousands of different alien races and languages – but I can't seem to figure out this whole thing. I didn't know how to fix this.

And that scared me to death.

(End of Chapter 3)


	4. Chapter 4

My son is a grown man, with abilities that make him the strongest man in the world, but it is his compassion and big heart which make him a very noble individual millions of people wish to emulate. He is a symbol for freedom and peace in a world that is far from peaceful.

And right now I want to smack him upside the head.

I won't actually do it, don't get me wrong. It's not that I'm afraid of hurting him. Clark can get hit with a truck, and it doesn't faze him. No, I'm not afraid of hurting him … but I am afraid of breaking my hand. It's one of the unfortunate drawbacks of having an invulnerable son with a thick skull – literally. I learned that the hard way the first time I spanked Clark when he was little.

Clark was eight years old, and it was a few days after he had been run over by an angry bull that had gotten loose from the neighbor's farm (yes, both of my children have gotten run over by angry bulls, can we please not dwell on it?) Anyway, for some reason Clark didn't want to do as he was told that day, and he threw a temper tantrum. I took my son over my knees and dished out an appropriate punishment. Even though Clark cried, my hand felt like it was hitting a brick wall. I spent the next two days icing my hand, but Clark had learned his lesson … thank goodness.

And, yes, I know what you're thinking, but spanking Linda last year was something I had to do, regardless of what it'd do to my hand. I was expecting it to hurt far worse with her than it had with Clark, but for some reason, it only stung for a couple of days. Martha and I still can't figure that one out … then again, we're still trying to figure Linda out in general.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I'm sure you're probably wondering why I'm upset with my son. Well, in short, he's acting like a teenager right now. I can understand him being upset about finding out that Jimmy knows his secret. I was the same way when I learned that Jimmy knew about my son and daughter. 'Like father, like son,' Martha would say – and she'd be right. I hate to think about how Clark will react when he finds out that we already know that Jimmy knows … and that he also knows about Linda.

"Clark," I said, trying to talk over my son's ranting. He ignored me, and I sighed, raising my voice. "Clark!" Clark stopped, looking at me, and I smiled inwardly; it was still nice to have the power to get his attention after all these years. "Thank you. Now, would you please calm down?"

"Dad, he knows about me," Clark said, pointing and looking at Jimmy; Martha and I looked over – and saw Jimmy gone … along with Linda.

"Please don't tell me they snuck out again," Martha wryly. I looked over at Clark as he stared at the kitchen wall, and I knew he was using his own seek-and-search method.

"They're not here," Clark said after a few seconds. "I gotta find them." He started for the kitchen door, but I stopped him.

"Clark, no," I said firmly.

"Dad, Jimmy knows about me," Clark replied. "I don't even know how he knows or how long he's known. You can't possibly think this is a good thing."

"Clark, aren't you the one who's always telling us that you hate lying to Jimmy and Lois about your secret?" Martha asked gently. I love having Martha here to help me; she's much better at getting Clark to calm down, when I'd probably be shouting right back at Clark. "That it would be so much easier if you could tell them the truth?"

"Yes, but I wanted to be the one to tell them," Clark replied. "I didn't want them finding out on their own."

"And we understand that, Clark," I said, "but you need to calm down so we can talk about this." Clark sighed and put his hands on his hips, nodding. "For now, just the three of us will sit down and talk this out, okay?" I waited until Clark sat down, then I glanced at Martha before we both sat down. "Alright, now, Clark, tell us what happened with Jimmy."

We listened to Clark tell us about being attacked by Metallo, and a couple of things came to my mind during that time: 1) Clark had been exposed to kryptonite and didn't say anything about it, and 2) Jimmy had been involved and possibly injured – and Clark said nothing about it. Whatever feelings I had about this whole situation just got shoved onto the backburner for the other stuff I was currently feeling.

"Let me get this straight," I said, trying hard to keep my temper in check, "you are exposed to kryptonite and don't tell us, and Jimmy might have been hurt – and you don't tell us?"

"But, Dad -" Clark suddenly looked at me like I had grown another head. "Jimmy wasn't hurt," he said slowly.

"Did you ask him?" Martha asked. Clark opened his mouth, but then he slowly shook his head.

I sighed, shaking my head. See why I wanted to smack him upside the head? "Clark Kent, Jimmy is your friend," I said. "Making sure he was safe should have been your first priority."

"I know," Clark replied, "but I was …." He sighed. "I guess I just panicked. I mean, I was scared that you guys were going to yell at me, and -" He suddenly stopped and looked up at Martha and me. "Wait a minute. You didn't freak when you found out that Jimmy knew … you don't even seem that upset."

I glanced at Martha, and she gave me that 'this is your baby' look. I took a deep breath, looking at my son. "Clark," I said, "the reason why we're not upset is because we already know Jimmy knows."

Clark looked at us in disbelief. "What?" he asked, looking shocked and hurt. "You knew Jimmy knew? How? When?"

"Before Christmas last year," Martha replied. "Remember that time we caught Jimmy and Linda in bed together?" Clark nodded. "Well, that's when we found out that Jimmy knew about you," she glanced at me briefly, "and Linda."

Clark's eyes widened. "He knows about Linda?" he asked. "Like … everything?"

"Yeah," I answered.

"How could he have possibly figured out about Linda?" Clark asked, fear in his eyes. "We were careful to cover everything up!"

"Yes, but you weren't," I replied. Clark looked at me, confused. "Last year after you helped out at a car accident, Jimmy saw part of your costume."

"And he figured out about Linda later on," Martha added, "in December."

"So, if he knew then," Clark said slowly, and I knew he was still trying to process what we had just told him, "why did he wait so long to say something?" He looked angrily at me and Martha. "Why did you guys not tell me right away?"

"Maybe because Jimmy knew you'd react like this," I replied, getting frustrated.

"Well, I'm sorry, Dad, but this is a little unsettling," Clark replied sarcastically. "And it deals with Linda's and my secret."

"I really don't appreciate that tone, Clark." I said. "I can understand you're upset, but the way you're reacting, it's no wonder why Jimmy didn't tell you he knew."

"He's in danger by knowing," Clark replied.

"Clark, he's already Superman's friend," Martha spoke up. "Yes, it puts the same kind of pressure on him that Pete had when he was Jimmy's age, but -"

"And that's the other thing," Clark interrupted. "Look at what happened to Pete; he nearly got killed once by a federal agent Lionel sent after him."

"How many times has he already been put in danger because people know he's friends with Superman?" I asked.

"And as I recall," Martha added, "Jimmy has even put himself in danger to help save you - just like he did today. I think that shows he's a good friend who can be trusted." She reached over and took our son's hand. "Clark, I know you're upset by this, and we were hoping Jimmy would come to you himself to tell you, but Jimmy is in no more danger now than he was before he knew."

"Does Linda know Jimmy knows about her?" Clark asked.

"Yes," I answered. "That's what they had fought about last year; Jimmy was upset at her for lying to him, even though he understood why. And you know they were able to work everything out."

"How did she react?" Clark asked quietly, and I knew he was starting to really think about things outside his own perspective – I hope.

"She was actually relieved," Martha answered honestly. "You know how she hates lying to her friends, and being able to be honest with Jimmy - having someone her own age she can talk to - has been good for her."

Clark sighed, and I could see he was really trying to work this whole mess out in his head; it was like watching Linda when something confused and frustrated her. I knew that Martha and I were responsible for part of this by not telling him earlier about Jimmy, but I know we both stand by our decision to let Jimmy be the one to tell Clark.

"So, what do we do now?" Clark asked in the same voice that he had used when he was younger and his powers had started emerging.

"First, we need to make sure Jimmy's okay," Martha replied. "After that," she glanced at me briefly before looking back at our son, "I really think we need to sit down and talk about this." I knew Martha was including Jimmy and Linda in her statement and I nodded.

We had to work this out.

Now.

(End of Chapter 4)


	5. Chapter 5

My life inhales.

Profusely.

Almost all of the Kents are mad at me, no one can trust me, I'm about to lose the only real friend I've ever had, the people I thought were my friends only see me as a kid, the person I respect the most can't stand me, I have this bump on my head that really hurts, and I still feel like I'm sitting on a rock in a cave.

Yeah, you heard me--a cave. Yes, that cave. You see, Linda was dead set against me walking back to Metropolis, which I don't get. It wasn't that cold outside, but try telling that to her. Seriously, this is the girl who can walk around outside barefoot and in shorts and a t-shirt when it's twenty below with a foot of snow on the ground, and she's –

Okay, okay, I know. I wasn't mad at Linda; she didn't do anything wrong – except choose me to be her friend. Ever since she's been around me, she's been in nothing but trouble, because that's what I am.

Anyway, since Linda wouldn't let me walk back to Metropolis, somehow or other (I really don't remember) we ended up walking to the cave – at normal speed.

"Jimmy?"

I looked over at Linda as she sat on another rock on the other side of the cave. She stared at me, and I could see she was scared and worried, which just made me feel even worse about everything. She wasn't supposed to be here – I wanted to be by myself, because that's what I deserved - but … to be honest, I was really glad she hadn't left me. I mean, my dad left me when I was little, and let's not even get into my mom … and then there's everyone else; they leave me behind, just a stupid kid who can't give anyone a reason to stick around. But not Linda.

Yeah, I guess part of me is still a little uncomfortable around her, but all things considered … I trust her more than any other person in the world right now. Kind of pathetic, huh?

"Jimmy?"

I came back to reality and tried to answer her. I opened my mouth to respond, but I couldn't think of anything to say. I mean, there were plenty of things on my mind that I wanted to say, but nothing I had a right to say, especially not to Linda. I shook my head, looking away.

"Are you mad at me?" Linda asked.

"No," I replied, looking back at her. "Why would I be mad at you?"

Linda shrugged and pulled her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. "You're not talking to me," she said.

"What else is there to say?" I asked.

"Well, I'd really like to know how you got that bump on your head," Linda answered. "It looks painful." I snorted and shook my head. "What?"

"Nothing," I replied. She was the first person who had asked me about the bump on my head. I sighed and gently rubbed my head, trying to avoid the bump. It really did hurt; I didn't want to say anything - I didn't want to worry her – but I knew she wouldn't stop pestering me about it until she knew. And believe me, telepathy aside, sometimes all Linda has to do is look at you in order to pester you.

I looked at her, tempted to tell her, but it wasn't worth the energy. I shook my head, my voice dropping. "Look, I can't."

"Can't what?" Linda asked.

"I can't … I can't talk to you," I replied. I saw the hurt look in her eyes, and I sighed. "Linda, it's not that. I just … I don't want to snap at you by accident, and I don't want to make things any worse than I already have. It's not worth it." Linda nodded, but I wasn't sure if she really got it. I turned my head, sure that she was mad at me now, too. Four for four. Way to go, Jimster.

I heard a small shuffling sound and looked over to see Linda climbing down off of her rock. She walked over to my rock and climbed up to sit next to me. I stiffened as she slipped her arm around me and then leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder. When she didn't pull away after a minute, I laid my cheek on her hair. She didn't speak, maybe because she didn't know what to say to me, but I didn't need her to say anything right then. So maybe I'm not big and tough like Superman—maybe I'm not much of a man at all—but it was kinda nice to just be held, and to pretend for a few minutes that it didn't matter that I was a screw-up.

(End of Chapter 5)


	6. Chapter 6

I'm never going to be good enough, I know it. I mean, I'm not even big enough to give someone a simple hug. Yeah, I can hug people and everything, but think about it. Short Stack isn't just some way for Clark to irk me (which is does, sometimes) whenever he visits; I'm really little – I'm even shorter than Mama. How could I even think that anything I do could be good enough for Jimmy ... or anyone else, for that matter?

I felt Jimmy pull away, and I sighed, lowering my head as I looked away. I was right, I knew it. I bit my lower lip, trying not to cry. I know it was wrong to think that it might have been better if Jimmy really wasn't a part of my life anymore, but I was. I mean, why else would he pull away from me?

"Hey." His voice was so soft and soothing, but I couldn't look at him. "Linda." His voice was a little more insistent, but I still didn't look over. I felt his hand on my cheek, and then Jimmy gently turned my head. "Will you look at me, please?"

"Why?" I asked. "I'm not good enough."

"What do you mean?" Jimmy asked, and I could sense he was honestly confused.

"Exactly what I said," I replied, looking up. "I'm not good enough for you. I can't even give you a decent hug; that's why you pulled away, right?" He just stared at me, and I didn't have to read his mind to know that he really had no clue what I was talking about. That expression lasted a few seconds before he finally closed his eye and shook his head.

"No," he said softly. He sighed and opened his eyes. "Linda … it's not you, okay? I swear it's not you."

-

"Then why did you pull away?" I asked, unconvinced.

Jimmy took a deep breath, and I could see in his eyes that he was trying to figure out how to say what was on his mind. That was something else I had been learning about since coming to Earth. Sometimes, you don't have to say the first thing that comes to your mind (something I know I still have problems with) when someone asks you to be honest with them; sometimes, it's okay to be gentle in how you talk to someone. I know Daddy and Mama and Clark do that with me all the time.

"I just …," Jimmy said slowly, "it's me." I wanted to say something, but I decided to keep my mouth shut; I knew Jimmy needed me to be quiet right now. "I mean … it's just a lot of things going on right now," he looked me right in the eye, "but you're the only thing right now that I don't mind being around," he shrugged, "even if that isn't for very long."

I swallowed hard, trying not to get upset. I knew he was talking about Daddy and Mama and Clark weren't going to let him be around me anymore … but Jimmy's my best friend – the only person my age who I've ever really been able to be honest with about … everything; I can't even tell Mattie or Andy or even Dick Malverne about some of the things I go through. I didn't think my family would really stop Jimmy from seeing me after this … but I wouldn't let that happen if they tried.

I leaned over, resting my forehead against his temple, and I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. I may not be as strong – or as big – as Clark or Daddy … but I had to try to be there for Jimmy. Like I said earlier, he's my best friend – even before he knew my secret. And I couldn't lose my best friend – no matter what.

"Got room for a Grade A lunkhead in here?"

My eyes shot open, and I jerked my head over to see Daddy, Mama, and Clark – in his civilian clothes and glasses – standing near the entrance to this part of the cave system. I glanced at Jimmy, and I could see he looked defeated – and a little scared. I turned back to my family, tensing; I didn't know what I would do if I had to go against them in order to keep Jimmy in my life.

But I knew I was going to do something.

(End of Chapter 6)


	7. Chapter 7

Being the mother of a boy with superhuman abilities is not easy. Between the holes in the floor from temper tantrums to lifting the couch whenever I needed to sweep the floor, I've seen things in the span of a few years raising Clark that most people will never see in their entire lives. Even as Clark grew into a teenager, and life *really* became complicated, I'll admit I was surprised by his emerging powers and problems, and I wasn't always sure of how to handle things, but Jonathan has been my saving grace; with his help we always managed to get through any problem that we faced by working together as a family—and that didn't change when Linda came into our lives.

Don't tell Jonathan or Clark this, but I have had always wished for a daughter. I guess it's every mother's wish to have a daughter. I love Clark with all my heart, but there are some things I could never do with him: brush and braid his hair, paint toenails in the living room as I ask him about the girls he likes, or just be there for him when he needs to talk. Okay, the last one, I can and still do with him, but I think even Jonathan would look at me strangely if I offered to braid Clark's hair or paint his toenails, and I'd have to agree (even though Clark could use a bit of a haircut); Clark already feels different, and I wouldn't want to contribute to that (even thought my 'Rosy Rosy Day' nail polish would go well with his costume—kidding.)

Now, even though there are things I can do with Linda that I can't do with Clark, it means in no way that I favor Linda over Clark. Whenever the two have an argument, Jonathan and I do our best to not get sucked into the sibling rivalry and 'take sides.' We stand back and look at things objective—as best we can—and come up with the best way to handle the situation. We've been doing that for all the situations concerning Clark and his secret, and we've continued applying those same solutions (usually modified) when dealing with situations that concern Linda. Those solutions can get complicated with each individual child, but when both of them are involved, it can be almost daunting…and I knew this current situation with Jimmy classified as that—and then some. But you know, even standing between two pieces of stardust and secrets, sometimes I wonder if the roughest little rocks don't have the most to hide.

I notice details (what mother doesn't?), and I should have been able to notice that Jimmy was behaving differently long before Linda had told me that Jimmy knew the truth, but I didn't. I would like to say that it was because Jimmy wasn't around all the time…but I can't. Yes, Jimmy is around more because of Linda, but five months had passed before Jonathan and I were informed that Jimmy knew our children's secrets. That shouldn't have happened—and I blame myself.

I know that it's a mother's first instinct to protect her children, but finding out about Jimmy the way we did shouldn't have happened. Even though Jimmy isn't a blood relative, he is as much a son to me as Clark is—and I'd like to think that I matter to Jimmy as a mother as well. Please don't get me wrong, I know is own mother cares about him, but her job takes her all over the country, so she hardly ever sees her son. Again, I'm not trying to make Mary Olsen sound like a bad mother; she has to work in order to provide for herself and her son since that horrible excuse of a man walked out on her and Jimmy. I mean, what kind of person does that to his family?

I still remember the first time Jonathan and I met Jimmy. Clark had been at the Daily Planet for a couple of months, and he wanted to introduce us to some of the people he had become friends with—and he wanted to bring Chloe home for a visit (even after all these years, Chloe is still one of the most dedicated people I know); it was also the first night Jonathan and I met Lois and Perry. I could tell right away what Clark saw in Lois—he had talked about her constantly—and it was easy to see that Perry was intimidating enough to keep Clark in line (he scored some points in Jonathan's book.)

And Jimmy…well, looking back on it now, Jimmy had behaved the same way that Linda had been the first night she spent in our house: reserved, quiet…withdrawn. I don't remember him saying more than a few sentences the entire night. Clark told us later on what he knew about Jimmy's past: shortly after Jack (Jimmy's father) left, Jimmy started having trouble in school. He started hanging out in what Clark would call 'seedy dives', spending time with less-than-admirable-people, where he learned a few…talents—if you want to call picking locks and hotwiring cars 'talents'. Even knowing that, I *still* can't believe he had the nerve to hotwire the truck in our own driveway—with Linda in the seat next to him.

I know I sound bitter about Jimmy and Linda's relationship, but I'm not. Those kids might be young and headstrong (what teenager isn't), but I knew even on the first night they met there was a connection there that would never be broken. Yes, there was attraction (walking in on them kissing in the barn quickly cemented that suspicion), but there was something else between the two that I couldn't understand at the time. And I—well, Jonathan, Clark, and I—thought Jimmy was still seeing Lois' sister, so I—we—stopped Jimmy and Linda from pursuing a relationship. We assumed something without checking all the facts, and we ended up hurting not only Jimmy but Linda as well. I know that decision wasn't the only factor that led to Jimmy's distrust of us…but I know it was a *big* factor.

After Linda told us that Jimmy knew about her secret—and Clark's—that he had known for a long time, I will admit that I was shocked and angry and scared, but that went away quickly when I really thought about the situation: Jimmy had kept our childrens' secret for so long that I knew he could be trusted with it. Sure, it put him in danger, but no more than normal (it is public knowledge that Jimmy is a friend of Superman's). I was hoping that after things had calmed down, then we could start building some sort of relationship with Jimmy, and I thought we had, but with how things had unfolded today…it looks like we're going to have to start all over—again.

"Look," I said gently, "I know everyone's a bit emotional now, but we're not going to accomplish anything here in these caves. Why don't we go back to the farm, and we can then find a way--"

"To what," Linda interrupted, "keep me distracted so you can send Jimmy back to Metropolis?"

"Linda, I don't appreciate that tone," Jonathan replied, taking a step forward, but I put a hand on his chest. Jonathan's temper was the last thing we needed at this time, especially with how reactionary Linda could be.

"Linda," I continued, my voice soothing but firm, "no one is going to be sending Jimmy anywhere because we need to talk about this, but having this attitude is not helping the situation." I held out my hand to her. "Please."

I hadn't seen Linda look at me with such wariness since the night she came to us, but it didn't make the sting of that look hurt any less. Still, I kept my hand outstretched to my daughter, hoping she wanted to resolve this situation as much as the rest of us did. It seemed like an eternity, but I saw the flicker in Linda's eyes, and I knew one barrier had been broken; Linda hesitated, but she slowly reached over and took my outstretched hand, looking at me with an expression that said she would be willing to talk, but she was not going to let her guard down completely until she knew Jimmy was safe.

I smiled warmly, squeezing her hand in a reassuring way. "Thank you," I said softly. I turned to Jimmy, who looked small and scared…even next to Linda; I held out my other hand to the young man, my heart pounding in my chest. "Jimmy?"

(End of Chapter 7)


	8. Chapter 8

When Linda's expression softened, and she reached for Mom's hand…I actually breathed a small sigh of relief. I know it hadn't been Linda's fault—nor Jimmy's for giving the necklace to her—but the image of my cousin while she had been on red kryptonite still haunts me to this very day. I never wanted to see Linda standing against me—against our family—ever again.

Don't get me wrong, because I do understand where she's coming from; it's hard not to feel protective about someone you care about, and I know Linda is willing to protect her friendship at all costs because Jimmy was her first friend, but I needed to speak with Jimmy—alone. I slowly took a step forward.

"Actually," I spoke up, making sure to keep my voice calm, "I was wondering if I could have a few minutes alone with Jimmy." I glanced at my parents; we had talked on the way over here about how to get Linda and Jimmy back home—and we had all come to the same conclusion: I was going to have to be the one to do it. Mom nodded, understanding, and she lowered the hand she had extended to Jimmy. I looked at Linda, and she appeared apprehensive. "Linda, please?"

Linda furrowed her eyebrows, and I could see her tense up, but then Jimmy put a hand on her shoulder. I have to hand it to Jimmy…for the short time he's been in Linda's life, he has managed to form such an amazing attachment with her—a bond that I've only seen between a few people: Mom and Dad, for example; it's the kind of bond I hope to share with Lois some day. It's the kind of bond where a simple touch can say more than any number of words; Jimmy's hand on her shoulder was his way of telling her to go with Mom and Dad…and by the way Linda's expression softened, I knew she would listen.

I stood still and watched Mom and Dad lead Linda out of the cave. Linda glanced over at me once, and she didn't even have to use telepathy to get her message across to me: Don't hurt Jimmy. I sighed and rolled my eyes a little, trying to be understanding with her position in all this, but I still made a mental note to have a talk with her later about her attitude. I glanced back at Jimmy, and I saw him sitting down on one of the cave rocks, hunched over and looking small as he stared at the ground. This wasn't going to be easy, but I knew it needed to be done.

I took a deep breath and slowly walked over, sitting down beside Jimmy on another rock. For a few minutes I just stared at the wall in front of me, distracted by the different symbols and their meanings; I glanced to my right and saw the opening leading to the new corridor in the cave Linda had discovered. It seemed like a lot more time had passed than a few months.

"So," I started slow and unsure, "I guess Linda told you about her part of the cave."

"Actually," Jimmy replied quietly, "I was there when she found it."

I raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. I definitely wanted to know the rest of *that* story, since Linda had conveniently left out that particular fact, and part of me was a little upset, but I pushed that aside for the time being; I had other things to deal with first.

"Well, I'm glad that she had someone with her," I replied sincerely. Jimmy snorted, and I knew he didn't believe me. "Jimmy, I mean it. We obviously both know how she gets when she discovers something new…she wants to share it with someone."

"And we all know it should have been you," Jimmy replied bitterly.

I took a deep breath and let it out; I knew the true source of his anger. "Jimmy, I'm sorry."

"For being her friend?" Jimmy asked. "Well, don't worry, C.K., after today, I'll make sure I'm not even in the same zip code as her."

"No, I'm sorry for how I've treated you," I replied, keeping my voice calm. We'd talk about his future relationship with Linda later on.

"Look, Clark, don't," Jimmy said. "Don't do this."

"Jimmy, I'm trying to apologize here. I screwed up."

"Yeah, by wasting the past two years knowing me."

"No, because I wasted the past two years *not* taking the time to know you." I paused, making sure I chose my words correctly. "Look, it's not that I didn't trust you," Jimmy glanced over at me, "okay, maybe it was a little—in the beginning—but that was only because I didn't know you; I didn't know anyone…except Chloe, but she had known already by the time I'd started working at the Planet."

"No, it was about trust," Jimmy retorted. "It had nothing to do with whether or not I'd blab your secret to the world. The truth is you didn't trust me to be able to handle it because I'm just a dumb kid."

"I never thought you were dumb, Jimmy," I replied. I swallowed, summoning the courage I knew I'd need to say this. It was funny, really: I could do superhuman feats with ease, but speaking from the heart was so hard sometimes. "There was a part of me that was scared you *could* handle it, Jimmy," I shook my head, dropping my voice, "and you wouldn't want to be my friend anymore." Jimmy looked confused. "Jimmy, not everyone I've shared my secret with has been…as accepting as others…and you were a friend I didn't want to lose."

"Why?" Jimmy asked, not looking over, and I knew he wasn't completely convinced; he needed proof that he was worthy to be anyone's friend, let alone mine.

"Because you're smart," I replied. "You've helped Lois and Chloe and me out when we've been stuck on something."

"Okay, so you like me because I'm a computer geek," Jimmy replied.

"And you make me laugh," I added.

"So, I'm a clown," Jimmy muttered.

I sighed, knowing this was going to be tough. I pondered for a few moments before finding something I knew would get to him. It was hitting below the belt, but at the moment, I was willing to fight dirty.

"Do you know what Linda sees in you?" I asked.

Jimmy jerked his head up, glaring at me, and I knew I'd gotten him. "That's not fair, Clark," he replied.

I shrugged. "You two like each other," I replied, "and I understand why you like her: she's smart, funny, and you can't help but be happy around her." I paused. "And you make her feel normal." Jimmy straightened a little, and I knew he was honestly surprised by that revelation. "I know you know about her past—all of it—so you know all the hell she's been through…all the pain and suffering she's known…the burden of having powers and keeping them a secret from her friends. She told me a few weeks ago that when you two are together, you made her feel like she belongs."

"You're her family, Clark," Jimmy replied quietly. "You make her feel like she belongs."

"Mom, Dad, and I make her feel like she belongs to a family," I said. "You make her feel like she belongs in this world," I took a deep breath. "And me too."

"Of course you make her feel like she belongs in this world," Jimmy replied. "Everyone likes you."

"I meant you make me feel like I belong, too, Jimmy," I said quietly. Jimmy snorted, and I sighed; that was starting to get a little annoying. "Jimmy, do you know what I'm thinking about when we go to a ballgame or a movie, or hang out at Big Belly Burgers?"

"Wondering if you're going to take BBB's offer of 'Eat ten Bloater Burgers in one sitting, get the eleventh one free'?" Jimmy asked wryly.

I smiled a little. "Not for a while," I replied. "No, actually, I'm thinking about how much fun I'm having with you…that for a few hours, I'm not an alien pretending to be normal; I feel like I'm actually…normal." Jimmy started at the ground, and I knew he was thinking about what I said; I was tempted to 'probe' his mind, but I knew better.

"I really make you feel normal?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," I answered softly. "And I repaid your friendship by being a Grade A jerk." I pursed my lips. "So, I can understand why you hate me."

"I don't hate you," Jimmy replied, looking over. "Believe me, if I did, I wouldn't be wasting my—oh, wait, nevermind, not my choice." He shook his head. "Out of all the people I've known in my life, Clark, you were the last person I'd expect to treat someone this way—and not because you're Superman."

"Yeah," I said. "Chloe and Pete sometimes called me the BDA in high school." Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "Big Dumb Alien." I shrugged. "Guess I'm really living up to that moniker right now." Jimmy snorted again, but I saw the corners of his mouth curl ever so slightly. I was expecting a little more, but I'd take that for the time being.

I took a deep breath, trying to figure out what I should say next. I knew Mom and Dad were waiting with Linda outside the cave, but I didn't think telling Jimmy 'we need to go now' would work out so well; that's how I got us into this mess in the first place.

_You could always tell him you'll take him back to Metropolis, and then you could add that you'd tell Linda how he'd rather walk out on her again than work this out._

_No, that's blackmail._

_Right, not good. What about telling him he doesn't have to trust you, but that he is a part of this family and that if he wants to work this out, then he'll stay?_

_No, that'd be extortion._

_You're not making this easy, __Clark__, you know that._

_Well, I don't want to force Jimmy to come back. Everything so far sounds like a bribe or a guilt trip into him coming back, like I'm trying to manipulate him. I screwed this up, and I need to fix it—the right way. Let me try something, okay?_

_Fine, if you think you can do better._

I took another deep breath. I know it sounds weird having conversations with yourself, but they do help. "Look, Jimmy, I can do a lot of things, but I can't see the future; I wish that I could promise you that I'll never do anything stupid or hurtful again, but I…I can't. I just…I can only promise you that I'll try. Would you be willing to give me another chance to be your friend?"

"Why?" Jimmy asked, and I knew he meant 'Why would you bother?'

I pursed my lips for a second, taking a deep breath to keep from going off; there's so much I wanted to say, but I knew it wouldn't help. "I can't really…explain," I answered finally. "I'd have to show you. Will you let me show you?" I held out my hand, waiting.

(End of Chapter 8)


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